


Peer Review

by Venivincere



Series: Burning Desire [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-17
Updated: 2014-12-17
Packaged: 2018-03-01 22:59:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2790848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Venivincere/pseuds/Venivincere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry teaches Snape a lesson. Third in the "Burning Desire" arc, the first two being "Burning Desire" and "Sequel to Burning Desire", but can stand by itself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Peer Review

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a bit of a follow-on from my other fics "Burning Desire" and its cleverly named sequel, "Sequel to Burning Desire". It's not necessary to read them ahead, but you might find a bit more of the humour in here if you've done so. This fic would not have been possible without the needs and desires of several people besides myself: Paintobscura, Abigail89 and Madsciencechick, and the utmost patience and perseverance of Djin7. Thank you all for your hard work and your sacrifice for Team Romance! I also thank all my wonderful teammates and everyone on Team Angst, without whose enthusiasm and drive this challenge would not have been near as fun. Djin7, this was a smashing idea. :-) Betas: Bethbethbeth and Themostepotente. Thank you both for your speedy and thorough work, and your excellent thoughts! 
> 
> Posted to Skyehawke on May 27, 2006 here: http://archive.skyehawke.com/story.php?no=12732

February the fourth, 20--  
  
Messrs. Freddie Montcalm and Edward Joy  
Editors in Chief  
Potions and Alchemy  
No. 17 Prick Alley  
London  
  
Dear Sirs:  
  
In re: 'Gladiolus as Mood Restorative in Depressive Potions', which appeared in your journal December last, I should like to take issue with DeVere's cavalier use of oleander root during Stage II cooling of Doldrumic potions. The instability of the oleander root makes it strictly unsuitable for use in  _in vivo_  potions, as Mr. DeVere very well should have known had he scored Dreadful or better in his NEWT. Perhaps it is the depressive effect of his potions that caused Mr. DeVere to neglect considering the use of false hellebore, which is just as efficacious in increasing the heart rate and considerably less likely to explode his neighbourhood.  
  
I have enclosed a short monograph (with a view toward publication in the March edition) correcting this and other deficiencies in Mr. DeVere's assumptions and techniques for the enlightenment of any fool stupid enough to attempt his modifications.  
  
Yours most sincerely,  
Severus Snape, OM2  
Professor (reinstated)  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry  
  
  
  
Harry Potter flipped the letter over and glanced at the monograph.  
  
"Merlin, he's still a conceited prick," he said, and tossed the letter onto Freddie Montcalm's desk.  
  
"If you think that's bad, you should have seen his refutation of the Hogsbein and Meyers Supposition. If you ask me, that's the gold standard of the form." Freddie removed his feet from the corner of the desk and rummaged around in the file drawer beneath. "I think I still have a copy of it here somewhere..."  
  
"Never mind -- I've read it," said Harry, leaning back in his chair and putting his own feet up. "He was inordinately proud of it, and I wouldn't be surprised if he still had it enshrined in his file case."  
  
Freddie snickered. "He keeps a file case of his rants?"  
  
"Oh yeah. He's got a box full of 'em."  
  
"What a nutter." Freddie shook his head. "Well -- no use putting off for tomorrow, and all that," he stuck his hand out. "Let's take a look at that monograph."  
  
Harry handed it over. "So, what do you do with these, then?"  
  
"Well," Freddie flipped through the monograph and scratched his head. "That's the thing. We usually end up publishing them."  
  
"What, really? Why?"  
  
"Because he's usually right," Freddie's brow furrowed. "Irritating bugger."  
  
"Bloody frustrating, that, isn't it?" Harry grinned.  
  
"Absolutely. Which brings me 'round to why we want to hire you."  
  
"So the truth comes out!" Harry laughed. "And here I was thinking you wanted to help The Boy Who Loved... And Lost."  
  
"That Skeeter woman should be permanently hexed," Freddie grumbled, "But I would like to help."  
  
"Come off it, Freddie," said Harry. "It's a load of tosh, and you know it. I don't need any help. It's not a  _loss_ , we just discovered we got along better as friends."  
  
"Of course," said Freddy.  
  
"We can see each other eye to eye, as equals, now."  
  
"If you say so."  
  
"Even if I still miss the irritating bugger."  
  
"Don't get teary on me again, Harry."  
  
"I'm turning into a sad old queen, aren't I?" Harry said, and grinned.  
  
"I won't answer that, as I enjoy my arse the way it is. Besides, it's rubbish. Now. About that help."  
  
"Yeah. That." Harry pulled his feet off the desk and leant forward, looking Freddie straight in the eye. "What've you got in mind?"  
  
"It's this Snape business. What with his own experimental work and picking apart everyone else's, he gets published in this journal at least once an issue. It's getting to be a bit of a joke, really." Freddie frowned. "On us.  
  
"Dunno if you know this, but both our fathers were editors of this journal, and their fathers, too." Freddie stuck his hands in his pockets and bounced back on his heels. "There's been a bit of grumbling lately in the potions community. 'Sins of the father', 'crumbling dynasty', 'follies of youth', and all that rot. We need our reputation back, and we think you can help."  
  
He turned and looked Harry in the eye. "Edward and I want you to become our peer reviewer."  
  
Oh.  
  
"Well,  _I_  want you to become our peer reviewer. Edward won't be back from Paris 'til summer. Harry, you've done nothing but mope around my flat for the past couple months. Admit it. You're stuck."  
  
Hmm. Maybe so. In the two months since he'd left his partnership and relationship with Severus, he supposed he  _hadn't_  done much more than barge 'round to Ron and Hermione's for Sunday dinner with the kids, have 'friendly chats' with his former lover once a week and pop in at Freddie's flat afterward to mourn.  
  
"I'm always happy to have you around, mate," said Freddie, "But let me help, won't you?"  
  
Harry didn't see how becoming Freddie's peer reviewer was going to help. The only way to help would be to shake the arrogance out of Severus, but Freddie didn't have a chance of doing that, really, especially since he, himself, couldn't. Wouldn't hurt to try, though. Thing was, Harry could have lived with Severus' conceit if that were all it was. Ten years in a closet, and pretty much everything Harry had ever desired went 'round the twist. For a while, you missed what you didn't have. After that, you forgot you missed it. How much worse had it been for Severus, spying for seventeen years? Really, Harry was glad Severus finally had the opportunity to pursue his interests without the limitations of Voldemort and (if Harry were being honest with himself) Dumbledore.  
  
And if Harry were really honest with himself, he was a bit jealous that Severus was able to rediscover his desires so quickly. Why'd he ever think it was a good idea to stay friends after leaving him? It was bloody short sighted not to realise he was damning himself to the chair across from Severus once a week, on the wrong bloody side of the coffee table. He should have cut off all ties. Aside from that, getting together every Friday night and listening while Snape talked (and talked and talked) and having nothing to say himself drove him mad with boredom. Worse, it left him with a niggling feeling that he was still adrift and had better get on with things before Skeeter got her claws into him again.  
  
The thing was, he'd got used to the prickly bastard. He  _liked_  Severus. He missed the clockwork rhythm of the lab. He missed folding Snape's smalls on top of his robes, ready for when he got out of the bath. Sometimes when Harry blew the candles out at night he still reached for Severus' arm to wrap around him like a blanket, and he missed even more the curl of Severus' fingers under his chin and their comforting scents of ink and candle wax. He was homesick for the low-ceilinged den, the blazing hearth and quiet company. It was bloody difficult not to slip back into the phantom traces each week, and every leave-taking left him naked and awkward, silent and alone. It must have left him with allergies, too, because he certainly wasn't _crying_  about it, and maybe Freddie had another bottle of Ogden's Old on tap to take away the ache in his throat.  
  
Merlin, he was a wet mess. There was a reason he'd left Severus, and he'd be a fool to forget it. He got the conceit; he was OK with that. The condescension, however -- well, that was taking one in the eye he didn't feel he deserved. He could take "You fool! Don't add the lizard scales now, or it will fume!" It wasn't anything to take personally. He knew the grump who said it. But he didn't know whom it was saying "Never mind, now, Harry, it's nothing you need to worry about. I'll take care of it." He'd been the man's apprentice. He'd been Snape's business partner and lover for  _ten years_. Why was he suddenly beneath an explanation? Why was he not worth Snape's time? After everything, all the training, all the late nights spent working or playing (and occasionally, memorably, both at once), all the battles and explosions, all the near misses and the difficulties afterward with the Ministry, why was Severus pushing him away? He couldn't bloody well take it six months ago, and he still couldn't understand it now.  
  
"--Harry!" Freddie's voice dragged him to the surface. "Where were you, mate?"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"I was about to call in reinforcements."  
  
"Sorry... sorry."  
  
They sat for a moment, silent.  
  
"You can't stop wanting him, can you?"  
  
"No. I can't."  
  
"Well, then, you're stuck for knocking some sense into him. Be our peer reviewer and make Snape see the error of his ways. Teach him a lesson."  
  
Teach him a lesson.  
  
"You're miserable without him, Harry."  
  
Teach him a lesson....  
  
"If you take up with him again, the ego's  _got_  to go."  
  
Could he humble Snape?  
  
"Look, you apprenticed under Himself. You're qualified."  
  
Which meant he knew just how to get him where it would do the most good.  
  
"And it will give you something to do while you suss him out."  
  
He decided. "Freddie."  
  
"And it might even  _help_  you suss him out."  
  
"Freddie!" said Harry. "Where do I sign?"  
  
::--------------------------------------------------------------::  
  
8 February, 20--  
  
Severus Snape, OM2  
Professor (reinstated)  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry  
Hogsmeade  
  
Dear Professor Snape:  
  
In reviewing your manuscript submission of 4 February, our editorial staff regret that several small errors prevent its publication in the March edition of  _Potions and Alchemy_. A corrected manuscript returned by 22 February to the Peer Editorial Staff will ensure publication in the March edition. Enclosed please find an annotated copy of your manuscript. Should you have any questions regarding the suggestions offered, please owl the Peer Editorial Staff at your earliest convenience.  
  
Sincerely,  
Peer Editorial Staff  
Potions and Alchemy  
No. 17 Prick Alley  
London  
  
  
  
Severus Snape, OM2, Professor (reinstated), Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, looked up from his breakfast at the Head table and frowned. This, of course, was nothing out of the ordinary, and if anyone, professor or student, noticed, it was not remarkable. The reason for his frown, however, was. Peer Editorial Staff? Errors.  _Errors?_    
  
He flipped through the thick sheaf of parchment in his hand and made a cursory examination of the annotations. "...think, in this instance, the use of borage would be completely acceptable and more accessible to the average potions maker... cause issues during the Tertiary cooling period, which you might have accounted for by mentioning the possible addition of... repeated use of the semi-colon here could cause confusion during ingredient assembly and preparation; for instance..."  
  
Unbelievable. In the world of respectable potions journals, Severus Snape would have been the first to condemn  _Potions and Alchemy_  for a two-knut rag (but worth reading for the entertainment value: since Harry left, attacking the dim-witted fools appearing in its pages was the high point of his month) but now, suddenly,  _peer review_? And, adding insult to injury, the suggested corrections had merit.  
  
A bilious thought occurred to him; one or the other of those dewy excuses for editors-in-chief had heard the rumours. Severus cursed himself for a fool. He had only started the rumours to get back at Edward Joy for his back-handed editorial review of  _Wolfsbane: Taming the Beast Within_  (London:Lupincott Press, 283p.), which appeared in last October's issue. Just his luck they would backfire so spectacularly.  
  
"Sour stomach?"  
  
"Minerva,  _look_  at this." He handed over the letter and manuscript.  
  
She tucked her own bit of post into her sleeve and took up the parchment. "Oh dear." Her eyes went wide.  
  
"Cretinous fools. Contemptible magic and shoddy recipes in every issue, and they go after  _my_  work?" He stabbed at the eggs on his plate.  
  
"It does seem suspicious, doesn't it?"  
  
"I'm one of, if not the best Potions Master in the country!"  
  
"Of course you are, Severus."  
  
"Minerva. You're laughing."  
  
"Certainly not." Her mouth twitched.  
  
He frowned. "Minerva, if you weren't so demonically feline, I'd be tempted to call you a-- "  
  
"Don't finish that," said Headmistress McGonagall, tears of mirth gathering at the corners of her eyes. "There are Extendable Ears everywhere."  
  
"--laughing hyena. What did you think I was going to say?"  
  
The dam broke, and Severus gave her a sour look as he snatched the sheaf of parchment out of her hand. He ignored her laughter, reached for his tea and began reading the letter again, and it wasn't until he read the last word that he realised he had a mouth full of pumpkin juice.  
  
  
  
February 8, 20--  
  
Mr. Harry James Potter, OM1  
Broomtwig Cottage  
Surrey  
  
Dear Harry,  
  
You've managed to get him in the biggest snit I've seen in the last six months. Good for you! It's lovely to have him so animated again, even if it is all indignation and apoplexy. Though surely my laughing at him at breakfast didn't help. Keep up the good work, and give my regards to Mr. Montcalm. He did particularly well on his Transfiguration OWL, then wasted himself on a Potions NEWT. What a pity.  
  
With Much Affection,  
Minerva  
  
  
  
"Freddie, you never told me you'd done a Transfiguration OWL. I would have put you on camp detail during the war if I'd known."  
  
"Those tents were pretty awful, weren't they?" Freddie smiled. "Hard to sleep in all that damp. Would have been harder to sleep without the Dreamless Sleep potion, though. I was in the right place."  
  
"Yeah, I guess you were."  
  
  
  
February the eighth, 20--  
  
Messrs. Montcalm and Joy  
Editors in Chief  
Potions and Alchemy  
No. 17 Prick Alley  
London  
  
Dear Sirs:  
  
Which one of you imbeciles sanctioned peer review? I will not have my work questioned by some freshly minted expert still damp behind the ears. I should very much like owled to me, at your earliest convenience, a detailed explication of this purported peer review policy and the list of your alleged reviewers and their credentials. In light of the recent dearth of well-researched and -presented articles in your journal, I highly doubt the ability of either of you cretinous fools to hire someone competent to judge any item of content I provide, let alone any refutation of the work of others that I may make.  
  
As to your suggestions, I shall not alter what I believe to be a magically sound, well thought out and easy to understand manuscript. I expect its publication as is in the March edition.  
  
Yours sincerely,  
Severus Snape, OM2  
Potions Master (you dunderheads!)  
Professor (reinstated)  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry  
  
  
  
Harry looked up from his desk to find Freddie hanging on his doorframe waving a piece of parchment. "What've you got?"  
  
"Our quarry has picked up the gauntlet." Freddie planted himself on the chair opposite Harry's desk and handed him the letter.  
  
"Whew! He's in rare form," Harry grinned. "But it isn't as though we hadn't expected it."  
  
"Got your plan in place?"  
  
"Oh yeah."  
  
  
  
10 February, 20--  
  
Headmistress Minerva McGonagall, OM3  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry  
  
Dear Minerva,  
  
You haven't seen anything yet.  
  
Love,  
Harry  
  
  
  
23 February, 20--  
  
Severus Snape, OM2  
Professor (reinstated)  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry  
  
Dear Professor Snape:  
  
We regret to inform you that, as we did not receive the corrections to your manuscript by the 22 February deadline, the publication of your manuscript will be delayed one month. Corrections should be owled to this office no later than 24 March for inclusion in the April edition. Please remember to address all correspondence regarding your manuscript to the Peer Review Editor. Correspondence regarding your manuscript owled elsewhere will not be addressed.  
  
Sincerely,  
  
Peer Editorial Staff  
Potions and Alchemy  
No. 17 Prick Alley  
London  
  
  
  
"Bloody bastards!" Severus threw the letter down in his eggs.  
  
"Bad news?"  
  
"Minerva, they're deliberately toying with me!"  
  
"May I?" She picked the letter up by the corner, shook it gently over Snape's plate, and perused it. "Hmm. It would seem so." The letter trembled just the slightest amount.  
  
"You're laughing again."  
  
"Nonsense."  
  
"You know something."  
  
"Nothing at all."  
  
"Cat."  
  
"Tch, Tch. Name calling, Severus?"  
  
"Hrmph."  
  
"With all this flapping about and squawking, I'm a wee bit tempted to call you a crow." The letter trembled harder.  
  
" _Laughing_  cat -- oh, give me that!" He took back the letter. "I may as well be talking to Potter, for all the help you are. Oh, for Merlin's sake, Minerva," he handed her a fresh napkin. "Dab your eyes."  
  
  
  
February the twenty-fourth, 20-  
  
Harry Potter  
Broomtwig Cottage  
Surrey  
  
Potter,  
  
I assume we are still on for our 'friendly chat'? I shall floo in at 7 sharp. Be waiting.  
  
Your friend,  
Severus  
  
  
  
"She's a smart one to bring it here to the office. Hmm. Beautiful, too."  
  
"Here, girl," Harry offered her a biscuit, but she wasn't biting. "Sorry. I haven't got any owl treats for you."  
  
Freddie rummaged in his pocket. "Bung her this, mate."  
  
"Thanks." He opened the letter, rolled his eyes, and passed it over to Freddie.  
  
"You'll have your hands full tonight."  
  
"Yeah. I hope I don't muck it up laughing. I'm not much of an actor."  
  
"D'you want me to come along?" said Freddie, handing back the letter. "I'll cast a disillusionment spell on myself and hide in the corner."  
  
"Are you out of your tree?" Harry flipped the note over and scribbled 'I'll be there' on the back. "The man spied for  _seventeen years_. Of course he'll know you're there."  
  
"Right-o. Well, floo call me when he's gone, then."  
  
"I'll do you one better and bring myself and some butterbeer." He fastened the note to the owl and sent her off.  
  
"And my firewhisky lives to see another day."  
  
"Prat!"  
  
::--------------------------------------------------------------::  
  
Snape bounced up from the small hearth in Broomtwig cottage and yanked the clothes brush out of Harry's hand.  
  
"Severus, what are you upset about?"   
  
Harry watched each irritated flick of the brush in Snape's elegant hands. Certain parts of himself remembered intimately the strength in those long-fingered hands (occasionally, with that very same brush in them) and by the time Snape handed it back, Harry was half-hard in his pants. Which begged disaster. Think of Umbridge, think of Dobby, the giant squid, anything, and where was a dose of  _Felix Felicis_  when you needed it? The brush appeared in his hand again, and he set it on the mantle.  
  
Severus made his way to the couch and Harry flopped down on the armchair opposite. He took a good look at Severus, and that was the last straw for his waning erection. He hadn't seen Severus look so angry and dejected since the war. Severus glowered at the floor and Harry said nothing. By the time the kettle boiled, he was glad of an excuse to get up. He rose to make tea and came back a bit later with the tray to find Severus holding letters in his hand. He set the tray down and took a closer look, and recognised them at once.  
  
"Potter -- look at these."  
  
Harry made a show of opening them and reading them, then stalled for time by pouring out. Merlin, he had no idea what to say. Time to wing it.  
  
"Hmm. Wow. These really came from  _Potions and Alchemy_? I -- erm -- never thought they were all that picky about what they published." Oh, smooth, Potter.  
  
Severus shot him a look. "They haven't been, until now."  
  
"How -- how odd," Idiot! Don't look at his face! "And they're demanding edits to your article?  _Yours_? But you're the best Potions Master in Britain!" Harry bit down on the inside of his cheek, hard.  
  
"Imbeciles! I want to know how it started. I want to know  _why._ " Snape fidgeted, a most uncommon gesture. His cup rattled, and he shot a nervous glance at Harry before he picked it up.  
  
"So, your letter this morning," said Harry, face straight and hoping the strange mixture of pity and irritation blooming in him sounded more like concern, "do you want me to fix up your manuscript for you?" Hit him where it counts.  
  
Snape stared at him, livid. "Certainly not, Potter! When have I ever allowed you anywhere near my manuscripts?"  
  
He couldn't help it; he rolled his eyes.  
  
"What I want you to do is to is to go see that -- that  _friend_  of yours, Freddie Montcalm, and find out what's going on."  
  
Oh,  _this_  was going to be fun. "Well... I suppose I could have lunch with him or something-- "  
  
"See that you do," said Snape, "And soon."  
  
Merlin, what a prick.  
  
"And Harry... thank you."  
  
Well, now.  _That_  was a first.  
  
::--------------------------------------------------------------::  
  
Saturday morning found Harry arse in the air over his old school trunk looking for something to wank to. Not that he couldn't get it up without it, but his thoughts invariably turned from faceless to Snape, and there went a dollop of expensive lube and a perfectly adequate case of morning wood. He found the copy of  _His Other Lover_ , which he had purloined from Severus the very first day of their relationship, and dashed back to bed, thumbing through the dog-eared pages for the particular passage he wanted. He tucked the book under his chin while he lubed his right hand, and then settled down to business.  
  
 _Etienne, his arm pleasantly sore, admired the light, red glow of Jean-Claude's arse. Ever since his lover confessed to ardent arousal when spanked, Etienne obliged him often. At first he was surprised to discover how much Jean-Claude's artless sniffing and splashing tears turned him on. He remembered that first time, Jean-Claude's awkward position on his lap ("no, this way," he'd said, sliding his erection between Etienne's legs, "so you can squeeze your legs together while you do it."), that very first slap that landed square in the middle, the brilliant red handprint it left, his arm raising and lowering, serving to pump his own arousal... was it any wonder such stimulation had caused him to release into his trousers?_  
  
Oh,  _God_  no. No wonder at all. Harry squeezed a little tighter.  
  
 _And Jean-Claude had felt it, felt the spurting under his hip, and with a sharp cry had come himself, making a mess of Etienne's trousers between the thighs, as well. And so it had happened many times in the beginning that either one or the other of them were too aroused to get their trousers off in time. At least until Colette refused to take his clothing to the laundry any longer, complaining that the girl behind the counter had accused her of being a cock-tease who couldn't keep her hands off her master's pants._  
  
Bet she  _wanted_  to. Naughty little chit. His strokes speeded up.  
  
 _Right now, both he and his lover were bare. Etienne slid Jean-Claude closer to his knees so he could bend close over the hot, red curve of his arse. His lover's cock, rubbed to a glistening sheen with oil, slid like velvet between the soft skin of Etienne's thighs. He gently separated the cheeks of Jean-Claude's arse and descended upon his hole with tongue outstretched. He held his treasure open between nose and chin, and lapped around the crinkled opening, which winked as it relaxed under his ministrations. He opened his mouth and breathed in through his nose, drinking in Jean-Claude's musk and the faint scent of the oil. Jean-Claude wriggled a little, and he was made painfully aware of his own erection, which threatened to burst any moment._  
  
Harry moaned and licked his lips. He was about to burst, himself.  
  
 _He could wait no longer. He pulled Jean-Claude up from where he lay and watched his erection, now crowned with a drop of dew, stand at attention before his eyes. He dove upon it without any warning, wrapped his arms around Jean-Claude's hips, and sucked him in down to the root._  
  
Harry thrust his tongue in and out through his lips. His hand flew up and down his erection.  
  
 _"Etienne... I'm going to..." but Etienne already knew. He felt the weakening of Jean-Claude's knees and tightened his embrace. Jean-Claude whined and thrust up his hips, and the first yeasty burst hit the back of Etienne's throat. He pulled his head back and then held the head of Jean-Claude's cock to the roof of his mouth. The rest of his release splashed there like a fountain. He barely got a hand to his own cock before he was spurting, too, strands shooting straight up from his fist and breaking apart on his chin, Jean-Claude's balls, the base of Jean-Claude's cock. His vision grew grey around the edges--_  
  
Oh, fuck, shooting straight up onto his balls... cock... shooting... he dropped the book and held on with both hands as he shot, too, spurting in arcs, up his chest, to his lips, on his cheek, on his faded old scar... and  _God_  it had been a long time since he'd done this. He lay boneless on the bed and let himself float in a cloud of afterglow. An immeasurable time later he realised  _His Other Lover_  was stuck to his chest.  
  
Damn it.  
  
Severus had better see the light of day quickly, or his library was going to be toast.  
  
::--------------------------------------------------------------::  
  
The March edition of  _Potions and Alchemy_  arrived right on schedule with the morning post. Severus set it prominently next to his place while he served himself some tea and a kipper.  
  
Minerva refrained from rolling her eyes, but only just. "Oh, your article is coming out today, isn't it? I'd love to take a look at it. May I?"  
  
Severus was torn between being the first to gloat and sharing this lovely bit of news without the stigma of having shown it off. Pride won.  
  
"Why, certainly." He slid it over with the handle of his fork. He'd got most of a piece of toast buttered precisely before he realised anything was wrong. Yes, she  _was_  flipping back to the beginning and staring at the table of contents.  
  
"Anything wrong, Minerva?"  
  
"Severus - I'm not quite sure how to tell you this, but… there is nothing under your name in this journal."  
  
He turned completely toward her and stared. There wasn't a trace of laughter about her.  
  
"What?"  
  
"See for yourself." She handed back the journal, and watched him anxiously.  
  
She was right.  
  
"Oh dear. Severus, are you all right? Severus!"  
  
  
  
March the second, 20--  
  
Messrs. Montcalm and Joy  
Editors in Chief  
Potions and Alchemy  
No. 17 Prick Alley  
London  
  
Dear Sirs:  
  
Where is my article???  
  
Sincerely,  
Severus Snape, OM2  
Professor (reinstated)  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry  
  
c: Peer Review Editor  
  
  
  
March third, 20--  
  
Harry Potter  
Broomtwig Cottage  
Surrey  
  
Harry,  
  
Something is afoot. I should like your opinion. I assume we are meeting at our regular time?  
  
Severus  
  
  
  
"I just don't understand it," said Severus, wearing a path in the hearthrug. "Their staff aren't large. Most of the time it's just the two of them there."  
  
"Oh? I never… uh… realised."  
  
"They can't have expanded their offices. They've got a wine shop to the left and a bordello on the right."  
  
Oh.  _That's_  what those noises were. "Erm."  
  
"My manuscript was fine. I told them so."  
  
"Ah."  
  
"Why didn't they publish it?"  
  
"Er… I don't…"  
  
Snape stopped his pacing and looked at him. "You're not helping, Potter.  _Suggest_  something!"  
  
::--------------------------------------------------------------::  
  
March the twenty-second, 20--  
  
Messrs. Montcalm and Joy  
Editors in Chief  
Potions and Alchemy  
No. 17 Prick Alley  
London  
  
Dear Sirs:  
  
As requested in my letter dated the eighth of February last, I have yet to receive a detailed explanation of your peer review policy and the names and provenance of your Peer Editorial Staff. Please provide forthwith.  
  
Sincerely,  
Severus Snape, OM2  
Professor (reinstated)  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry  
  
c: Peer Review Editor  
  
  
  
"So, Freddie."  
  
"Yeah, Harry?"  
  
"We don't have an actual peer review policy, per se, do we?"  
  
"No, no we don't."  
  
"Don't suppose you'd want to make one up, then?"  
  
"Not really. D' _you_  want to?"  
  
"Not really. You're not going to let on about what I'm--"  
  
"Harry, what do you take me for?"  
  
  
  
25 March, 20--  
  
Severus Snape, OM2  
Professor (reinstated)  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry  
Hogsmeade  
  
Dear Professor Snape:  
  
We still have not received the corrections to your manuscript, which we requested by the 24 March deadline for inclusion in the April edition. The publication of your manuscript is dependent upon your compliance with the peer review policy. Corrections should be owled to this office no later than 23 April for inclusion in the May edition. If your corrections are not received by the 23 April deadline, your manuscript will no longer be considered for publication and will be returned to you. Please remember to address all correspondence regarding your manuscript directly to the Peer Review Editor. Correspondence regarding your manuscript owled elsewhere or copies of your correspondence will not be addressed.  
  
Sincerely,  
Peer Editorial Staff  
Potions and Alchemy  
No. 17 Prick Alley  
London  
  
::-------------------------------------------------------------::  
  
"You've got an odd way of being friends," said Harry later that evening, after spending the first forty-five minutes of their friendly chat in uncomfortable silence. "Won't you tell me what's wrong?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Severus --"  
  
"You wouldn't understand."  
  
What? "Try me. Do you forget I know you?"  
  
"I have forgotten nothing."  
  
"Severus, friends talk about what's bothering them. It's what friends do."  
  
"It's not what I do."  
  
"Severus, you used to trust me. What happened?"  
  
"You have to ask?"  
  
"Apparently."  
  
"Imbecile.  _You_  were the one who left  _me_ , not the other way around."  
  
Oh. "I didn't want to. You know I didn't want to."  
  
"Then why did you?"  
  
"We've been through all this, Severus. D'you still have to ask?"  
  
"Never mind. I knew I shouldn't have come."  
  
Prick. "Well, what are you doing here, then?"  
  
Severus arose, his expression tight. " _You_  were the one who wanted to engage in this pointless exercise in friendship." He flipped his robes into place. "In my experience, breaking up means breaking ties." He strode to the door and whipped around. "All ties." He opened the door. "And since I am obviously not meeting your expectations, perhaps we should do just that!"  
  
The door slammed behind him, echoed by the pounding of Harry's heart.  
  
He sat, stunned, and only when the darkness crept in around the corners did he finally remember to breathe. For the first time since they parted, Harry wanted to weep.  
  
  
  
25 March, 20--  
  
Minerva,  
  
I hurt him. So help me I didn't mean to, but I hurt him. I don't know what to do.  
  
Harry  
  
  
  
"I know it's not addressed, Hedwig. Just take it to the Headmistress."  
  
Harry woke before dawn to the sound of Hedwig regurgitating bones. A piece of parchment lay on his forehead.  
  
  
  
Harry,  
  
Sit tight. I'll speak to him at breakfast.  
  
Minerva  
  
::---------------------------------------------------------------::  
  
"How was your visit with Harry last night?"  
  
A goblet shattered.  
  
"Severus, that's the second dish you've broken this morning. What happen--"?  
  
"Buzz off, you old harpy!"  
  
He heard gasps, and then the hall fell silent.  
  
"Severus!"  
  
"Headmistress -- I am truly sorry. I didn't mean--"  
  
"I should hope not!" He had never seen her so disappointed, not even when she first saw the Mark on his arm. "Such a remark is highly inappropriate. I shall expect you in my office immediately following breakfast."  
  
"Very well." He rose and went to his office before he could break anything else.  
  
  
  
March the twenty-sixth, 20--  
  
Messrs. Montcalm and Joy  
Editors in Chief  
Potions and Alchemy  
No. 17 Prick Alley  
London  
  
Dear Imbeciles:  
  
In the course of a quarter century dealing with Potions and Alchemy I have become well acquainted with the fact that your offices are housed in a two-room walk-up all of 300 feet square at the dingier end of Prick Alley and refuse to believe for one second that your cretinous Peer Review Editors, whose names you have yet to provide me (and whose existence, to my mind, are totally suspect as I can't believe you'd care to fit both your swelled heads into one office), are not intimately aware, being, at most, eight steps away, of every cursed owl that flies into your offices!  
  
Therefore, I expect my manuscript to be handed to your so-called peer review staff immediately, and if I do not receive by return owl the detailed explanation of your peer review policy and the names and qualifications of your Peer Editorial Staff, which I have previously requested twice, I shall come down there and vet them myself!  
  
Regards,  
Severus Snape, OM2  
Professor (reinstated)  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry  
  
::----------------------------------------------------------::  
  
Minerva paced.  
  
"Severus, something must be done."  
  
"What about, Headmistress?"  
  
"Oh, don't be obtuse. You know very well what."  
  
"Indulge me."  
  
She pursed her lips. "I rather think I've indulged you more than you deserve, Severus. Surely you know such a remark as the one you made this morning is grounds for disciplinary action?"  
  
"Then discipline me."  
  
"Severus, do stop being difficult. I would rather not add insult to injury, but I can't cast  _Imperturbable_  on the Head Table and I must maintain discipline amongst the students." She paused in her pacing and turned to face Severus.  
  
"It's obvious you're in great pain, and it doesn't take a seer to understand why. But if you don't come clean now, I shall be forced to take steps to make sure another outburst like the one this morning does not occur again."  
  
"Are you trying to be a friend, Minerva?"  
  
"Oh, Severus," she sighed. "I already am one."  
  
::-------------------------------------------------------------::  
  
March 26, 20--  
  
Harry Potter, OM1  
Broomtwig Cottage  
Surrey  
  
Harry,  
  
The bird has finally sung. I told him he should go sing to you as I would rather it not be his swan song. He said he would think about it.  
  
Minerva  
  
  
  
March 26, 20--  
  
Headmistress Minerva McGonagall, OM3  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry  
Hogsmeade  
  
Minerva,  
  
It's more than I hoped for, after last night. Thank you for looking after him.  
  
Harry  
  
  
  
March 28, 20--  
  
Harry Potter, OM1  
Potions and Alchemy  
No. 17 Prick Alley  
London  
  
Dear Harry,  
  
He sugared his eggs and took five cups of tea, then requested a leave for this afternoon. I do hope you're ready.  
  
Yours anxiously,  
Minerva  
  
  
  
Freddie grimaced and handed back the letter. "I think I suddenly remember an appointment this afternoon."  
  
"And here, I thought you wanted to help."  
  
"I'm blowing smoke, Harry, and you know it. I wouldn't miss this for anything."  
  
::-----------------------------------------------------------::  
  
Halfway through lamb vindaloo take-away Severus Snape burst through the door to the  _Potions and Alchemy_  offices, assessed the situation, and swooped down upon Freddie, who was leaning back in the visitor's chair with his feet up on the desk and a plastic fork dripping on his shirt.  
  
"There you are, Mr. Montcalm." Snape glared. "From the lack of correspondence I was beginning to think that you and Mr. Joy had encountered a tragedy."  
  
Freddie pushed his container onto the desk and scrambled back. "I think I'm encountering one now."  
  
Snape looked him up and down. "How novel for you."  
  
Turning, "And you, Mr. Potter? What are you doing here? Oh, you're not -- never mind that, now. As you can see, it's rather too late for it." He frowned. "Why are you behind Mr. Montcalm's desk?"  
  
"Actually," Harry began, hastily swallowing a mouthful of curry, "It's--"  
  
"Never mind. Please leave. Mr. Montcalm and I have some overdue business to discuss."  
  
"I beg y--"  
  
"Hang on--"   
  
Harry gestured for Freddie to continue, and glared daggers back at Snape.  
  
"How dare you come in here, Snape, and attempt to order my office? That is  _not on_." Freddie fumed. "No, Harry, stay right where you are. You are making assumptions, Snape, and you have no idea how happy it makes me to be able to tell you that you are all wrong."  
  
"Wrong, Montcalm?" Snape leaned in. " _Wrong_? And when is it  _right_  to ignore a perfectly reasonable request in the ordinary course of business? Twice! I have waited almost two months for a copy of your peer review policy and the names and qualifications of your so-called peer reviewers." Snape looked around. "Produce them at once."  
  
"Very well," said Freddie. "Snape -- I'd like to introduce to you our Peer Review Editor. He apprenticed under the best potions master in Britain and, really, we're lucky to have him here at all." He gestured across the desk. "Harry Potter. Harry, may I introduce to you Professor Snape."  
  
Snape turned slowly on his heel and stopped, facing Harry. He blinked.  
  
"Well, I tried to tell you, but apparently once again I was not worth listening to," said Harry, hurt. "You happen to be standing in front of  _my_  desk, in  _my_  office, and that's  _my boss_  you're being unconscionably rude to. Apologize!"  
  
"I refuse to apologize to you, Potter, for a simple misunterstan--"  
  
"Not me, Snape, Freddie! Merlin knows you'd never apologize to me."  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
"It's obvious you hardly consider me worth one, and don't bother to deny it."  
  
"Potter, you are delusional. I always apologize when I'm wrong."  
  
"Oh, is that so? Freddie's waiting, Severus!"  
  
"Very well." Snape turned. "Mr. Montcalm, I apologize."  
  
"That's good of you, Snape," said Freddie. He stuck out his hand, but Severus had already turned back to Harry.  
  
"Yes, very good of you," said Harry, shaking with anger as he moved around the desk to stand in front of Snape, "And I see you're not denying I'm not worth one, either."  
  
"I never said--"  
  
"Erm... I'll just be..." Freddie slipped around the corner and the door snicked shut.  
  
"--I wouldn't apologize to you for anything, and what in Merlin's name do you  _mean_  I don't consider you worth one?"  
  
"Oh, well, let's see," he thrust his fingers up in front of Snape's face and tucked his pinkie under his thumb. "One: I did all the scut work on the R & D for the new version of the wolfsbane, and the only thing on the acknowledgements page of your bloody book was 'To Harry Potter, many thanks.' No mention of me as your former apprentice, your business partner or the love of your life, even, let alone mention what you were thanking me for?  
  
"Two:" his ring finger joined his pinkie, "Ever since we got the Pack contract, you've given me none -- count 'em,  _zero_  chances to work on the new wolfsbane production. You even had to ask me what the adjusted titration factor was the first time you made the potion for the contract. I trained with you, I worked with you for ten years, and you're happy to listen to my answers to your questions, but you didn't trust me yet to do the work for the contract? Why was I even business partners with you?  
  
"And three!" He lowered his index finger and Snape thundered at the remaining digit. "Ever since we got that contract,  _not once_  did you make love to me!"  
  
"Lower that, Potter," said Snape, "or I will lower it for you."  
  
"Oh yeah? I'd like to see you try!"  
  
Instantly they were on the floor, wands forgotten, fists thumping. They knocked into the desk and a moment later heard the crash and tinkle of the inkstand under the chair. Severus landed one in Harry's gut and he lost his breath. But he got off a good one in Snape's eye, and when Harry saw the tears dripping out of it, he realised his own were dripping, too.  
  
"I was with you for over ten years, Severus.  _Ten years_!" Harry managed to grab both of Snape's wrists. "You taught me everything I know about potions. We fought together at the end of the war. I loved you."  
  
He flipped Snape over on his back and sniffed hard. "You let me live in your life, and you loved me back." He squirmed around until he was sitting on Severus' stomach. "Merlin knows it wasn't always easy, Severus, but it was us. It was just how we were, and that was OK.  
  
"And then --" He broke off, chest heaving. "You just stopped. You stopped loving me."  
  
"Harry, I  _never_ \--"  
  
Harry barrelled right over him. "I put pyjamas on at night. I wasn't going to have to -- to take them…"  
  
He sniffed mightily and dabbed his eye on his shoulder. "And damn it, I  _still_  love you. You're a conceited, condescending prick and I still love you. How pathetic is that?"  
  
His grip loosened, and a fresh track of tears formed, unnoticed.  
  
Snape raised his hands to Harry's cheeks and stared intently into his eyes. "Harry -- I had no idea -- I didn't realise.  
  
"I am so, so sorry, Harry. Will you please forgive me?"  
  
Severus thumbed away the tears and pulled him gently down into a kiss.  
  
::--------------------------------------------------------------::  
  
28 March, 20-  
  
Freddie--  
  
Sorry about the inkstand, mate. And the state of the floor.  
  
Harry  
  
P.S. I quit.  
  
  
  
April the twenty-first, 20--  
  
Mr. Remus J. Lupin  
Lupincott Press  
434 Diagon Alley  
London  
  
Dear Mr. Lupin:  
  
I am pleased to hear we are fast approaching the second printing of  _Wolfsbane: Taming the Beast Within._  Before we go to press, I would like to correct several errors:  
  
With respect to authorship, please add Harry James Potter as second author. Please see the attached note containing a short biography, which I would like you to include along with mine.  
  
Please replace the text of the acknowledgments page with the following:  
  
"This book would not have been possible without the tireless efforts of Harry James Potter, who spent long hours in the lab perfecting the techniques discussed in this book. I have been fortunate to know Harry first as my apprentice, and later as a colleague in the war and as my business partner. But I am most humbled to know him as the love of my life, and if it were not for Harry and his love for me, I would never have been here to write this book. Harry, my thanks, and all my love."  
  
Yours most sincerely,  
Severus Snape, OM2  
Professor (reinstated)  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry  
  
  
 **~fin~**


End file.
